In Paul Schraeder’s Oh, Canada, Leo Fife (Richard Gere), a celebrated documentary filmmaker saddled with cancer and dementia, is near death. His last act is to be interviewed by former film students for a documentary they’re making “in tribute” to his life and career. His wife, Emma (Uma Thurman), sees the film as an exploitative money grab, but Leo either doesn’t believe her or doesn’t care. He still wants to be interviewed and speak his piece, despite him being tired, disoriented, and visibly fading away.
Leo’s recollections take the viewer on a non-linear journey through key moments as a young man (played by Jacob Elordi), showing his decisions and their outcomes. We go back and forth primarily from the sixties to the present day. We witness the desertion of his pregnant wife and son to avoid the Vietnam war draft by fleeing to Canada, how he got into film and became a success, and how he met Emma.
What becomes quickly clear is that this is not a sentimental film of idyllic flashbacks from a dying man. There are constant derailments to Leo’s train of thought, mostly by Leo himself, who becomes increasingly frustrated as he loses his filter, stubbornly refusing to stop talking. The narration is unreliable, with Emma emphasizing that everything Leo is saying is in all likelihood inaccurate because of his mental state, and that it’s a cobbled jumble of films he’s seen, things he’s misremembered, or even made up. Whether this claim is true or she’s merely trying to make the directors scrap the film to save Leo’s reputation and dignity is unclear. We can only watch and choose what to believe.
Evidence suggests Emma is right, as we see Leo’s memory substituting the likeness of different people who wouldn’t be present in the memory he’s relaying. In one 1960s sequence, Thurman stands in for the young wife of an old friend. In another scene with young Leo, he enters a bedroom as a grey-haired middle-aged man and talks to his wife, with the bureau mirror reflecting the brown hair and profile of Elordi, as it ought to be. Film techniques like this give Easter egg tells for the viewer to watch for, and match Leo’s mindset. Other artistic choices, such as varying cinematography styles based on the decade Leo’s memory is inhabiting at the time, solidify this as a film lover’s film.
Oh, Canada is an unflinching portrayal of aging and dying—in all its blunt simplicity—and the legacies we leave. It’s a good reminder that memories can become clouded or misrepresented by many means, from medications to an altered state to the passage of time. It’s not pretty, but there’s a natural beauty in its rhythm and execution. Four stars, would recommend.
Which library audiences will appreciate this historical flashback film?
Library patrons who are caregivers to those in hospice or long-term care will likely see themselves in this film and identify with Emma’s character. Movie lovers will also find much to admire as the film deftly explores various vignettes (albeit of unreliable narrative proportions) of a fictional filmmaker. Canadian audiences will especially appreciate its numerous homages to parts of their history.
Does this film hold value for academic librarians?
University-level librarians will benefit various academic departments by having Oh, Canada in their DVD collections. Film students will be inspired by its out-of-the-box story delivery and art direction through the cinematography. Likewise, the subjects of aging and dying are ideal class discussions in courses related to hospice care and dementia, or even studied in conjunction with similarly themed films like 2014’s Still Alice.
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